The Backroad Hotbox Blues
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Sam and Dean take a trip down memory lane, reconnecting over an old past time.


There were two things that Dean loved above everything else in life.

They were Sam, and being intimate with Sam.

What made Dean angry was not being able to do the latter of those things.

Long ago Sam and Dean had made it a sort of tradition to make love the morning they left in every hotel, motel, house they squatted in, campground, whatever – that way that if anything else they had at least one good memory of the place. Morning sex, Dean found, put him in a very good mood for that day and it meant that Sam would be happy too, which therefore made life far easier for both of them. After all, long car rides together on an all together too frequent basis made for getting irritated with each other, especially if certain tensions hadn't been released earlier that day.

They had been interrupted that morning right after sunrise, still wrapped tight around each other from where Sam had fallen asleep with his head on Dean's chest, by an angry hotel manager, saying that he needed the room immediately. Both Sam and Dean had contemplated flaying him alive but thought better of it, instead choosing to show occasional flashes of machetes and guns as they packed their things up, shooting towards the man and what was obviously a hooker on his arm, the two of them smelling like a bar, alcohol and cigarette smoke pervading the mid April air around them, fog spilling into the open bedroom.

As soon as they'd slammed the door on them, leaving Sam and Dean standing in the parking lot, both of them had turned and sighed. Sam was just glad they'd showered the night before, and the thought brought a small smile to his face.

Sam was still smiling about it two hundred miles and three and a half hours later, crossing from Indiana into Ohio. He'd also been thinking quite hard about what they hadn't gotten to do that morning, and how hard he'd been for Dean since they'd pulled out of the parking lot.

Dean had his eyes on the road, both hands keeping a knuckle tight grip on the steering wheel. He was tense, his whole body taught with pent up energy and sexual frustration – Sam could tell by the way he kept shifting in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position to put his burgeoning erection in. It didn't help that Sam had his hair back in a ponytail, high up on his head, the skin of his neck an invitation to Dean. Sam hadn't intended for it to cause him discomfort, but he did want Dean to see the mark he'd sucked into his skin two days before right underneath his left ear as Dean had fucked deep into him. Sam thought of the deep scratches he'd left in Dean's back as he came, screaming Dean's name loudly. The sex that day had been incredible – Dean had woken up feeling animalistic and even through interviewing witnesses and tracking down the vamp he hadn't been able to keep his hands off Sam and as soon as they'd gotten back to their hotel they'd fucked hard, taking turns topping for most of the night.

Sam shivered with pleasure and turned to look at Dean, licking his lips.

"You know, we can still fuck Dean. Doesn't have to be in a hotel." He put his hand on Dean's knee moved upward, Dean making absolutely zero effort to pull away from Sam's touch.\

"I know Sam but..."

"But what? Seriously, what's stopping us?" Sam dipped his hand down and felt the hard outline of Dean's cock pointed down his right thigh, bulging out the leg of his jeans. He could feel the heat of it through the denim, indicating just how badly Dean wanted it. Sam scooted a little closer and gripped Dean a little harder, making Dean gasp with pleasure at the contact.

"Sam..."

"Yeah?"

"You're right. Fuck it, we're doing this right now." Dean kept driving, western Ohio looking very flat and empty at the moment. He looked around for an adequate spot, not satisfied by what he saw in the least.

Sam's hand moved and tugged at Dean's zipper and belt, unfastening his pants and exposing the dark blue fabric of his cotton boxers.

"Whatcha doin there Sammy?"

Sam unbuckled his seat belt and got right up next to Dean, sliding his other hand underneath Dean's t-shirt, his hand warm against Dean's skin and brushing over a nipple. "Don't you worry about a thing big brother – I've got you." Sam bit down for a moment on Dean's earlobe, his other hands plunging into the waistband of Dean's boxers and finding his cock, fingers curling around the thick length and stroking downwards.

"Fuck, Sammy..." Dean felt his toes curl inside his boots, his body responding immediately to Sam's touch, his concentration on driving slipping downwards. Sam was a live wire next to him, exuding desire so obviously that it hung thick in the air, Dean feeling like he couldn't breathe. Dean made a right, finally deciding that this spot, a dead end road that looked like it hadn't been used in years, would have to do. There were tall trees on either side of them, so they could easily pull over and not be seen from the road.

Dean rolled the car to a stop, immediately unbuckling his seat belt and turning to take Sam's head in his hands kissing him hard, Sam smiling against his lips as Dean pushed him down into the seat, accidentally bumping Sam's head against the door behind him. Sam's hands were under the back of Dean's shirt, moving over the tracks that Sam had scratched into his back, the skin till sensitive to the touch, bringing back the memory of that night to Dean's mind.

Dean broke the kiss and growled "Back seat. Now." Sam smiled and pushed him off, opening his door and getting out. Dean had to struggle to keep his pants up, not bothering to re-zip them.

It's not like he would be needing them soon anyway.

Sam pulled Dean into his lap, Dean's thighs spread wide as he started to kiss Sam again, his hands tangled in the knot of Sam's ponytail, tugging at it so he could run his fingers through Sam's hair. Sam kept his mouth closed, not letting Dean's incessant tongue in.

"C'mon baby boy, wanna taste you." Dean's eyes were dark with lust.

Sam flicked his gaze up and down Dean's face, smiling. "Got us a little something Dean. Something that'll make it even better. Reach down and look in the side pocket of my duffle."

Dean turned his body, Sam holding him up as he leaned down and his fingers felt for what Sam was talking about, an old bullet box that definitely didn't have shotgun shell in it anymore.

Dean brought it up and opened it, smiling when he peered inside and saw its contents. "Dude, no way." There was a bag full of weed, two pipes, and a lighter.

"Yeah way. Thought a little trip down memory lane would do us some good." Sam kissed Dean's lips for a moment and then pulled away. "And since we didn't get to fuck this morning..."

"You figured a little bit of this stuff would make up for that? Mmm, Sam you sly bastard. When did you even get this?"

"Yesterday while you made the dinner run. Easiest stuff I've ever scored."

Dean looked underneath the weed and found that Sam had already rolled a joint. "Just like when we were kids."

"You said I should always have one ready Dean – figured it'd be a good idea. Wanted to smoke it while we fucked this morning but we kinda got shut down on that."

"Nothing's stopping us now Sammy." Dean's smile was full of promise.

"Love the way you think Dean." Sam kissed Dean again, his tongue just barely ghosting against the bottom of Dean's lip. Dean felt himself get harder, the barest contact of Sam making him ache harder with want.

Sam extracted the joint and lighter from the box, taking it from Dean's hand and sitting it aside. He put the joint in his mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply, filling the smoke fill his lungs and warm him, his whole body relaxing. He put a hand on the back of Dean's head and drew him forward, their lips just barely apart. Dean opened his mouth and breathed deep as Sam exhaled, the taste of him chased by smoke, making Dean's head feel light and blissed out, closing his eyes and relaxing into his lover.

Sam passed the joint to Dean, taking a moment to kiss him before inhaling. This was how they'd figured out they wanted each other, one summer night in Missouri on the back porch of a house that a fellow hunter had lent to them. Sam had been sixteen and Dean had brought home weed one night after working at the local mechanic's shop, charming the pants off the receptionist and getting out of it a blowjob and a bag of the stuff. He'd brought it home and showed it to Sam, his younger brother's curiosity winning over his resistance to smoking. They had gotten high together and all it had taken was Dean's hand on the back of Sam's neck touching him just right and a brush of lips against the others. Sam had lost his virginity that night and when they woke up in each other's arms the next morning neither of them had run from it, instead just smiling at each other and understanding what had settled comfortably between them.

It had been bliss ever since then, and twelve years later Sam still cherished that memory.

Dean noticed that Sam felt a little distant and broke the kiss. "You thinking about it to?"

Sam smiled at him, his expression relaxed and happy. "Yeah. Loved that night with you Dean."

Dean took a hit of weed and breathed against Sam's lips as he exhaled into Sam's open mouth. "Loved every night after too Sammy. Love you baby boy, so goddamn much."

Sam rode the crest of high as the smoke from Dean's mouth made his nerves sing out. "Love you too Dean. Wanna stay here forever. Right here in your arms."

"You can." Dean shifted, opening his legs wider, his cock tucked up into his waistband and pressed against Sam's stomach, a large patch of precome staining Sam's shirt from where the head of Dean's cock was resting against it. Sam felt his own cock begging to be released, the heat of Dean's body against his making him even warmer along with the weed.

"Too many clothes Dean." Dean nodded in agreement and shrugged his jacket off then pulled his shirt over his head, his Sam licking his lips again as Dean's torso was revealed to him, leaning forward to suck Dean's left nipple into his mouth, his breath smoky and warm against Dean's skin. Sam bit down on the bud, drawing a sharp gasp from Dean, his own hands working to get at Sam's body underneath his clothes, the joint in between two of his fingers.

Sam sat back and pulled his shirt over his bed, Dean's heart skipping a beat when he looked at Sam, his body muscled and toned and perfect in Dean's mind. Dean took another hit of weed and kissed Sam full on the mouth, the smoke just barely escaping from between their lips. Sam relaxed more, Dean warm and gorgeous in his lap, the air in the Impala filled with smoke and pleasant. Sam toed off his shoes and reached down, settling one hand against the curve of Dean's left hip and the other pushing down Dean's boxers a little more and curling around his cock, stroking upwards as they traded another smoke laced kiss.

Dean groaned with pleasure, Sam's tongue slipping against his, not fighting with Dean's, simply laving against it, letting Dean know that this is exactly where he wanted to be right now, safe in his arms. Sam smiled when he felt the slick of more precome against his fingers, telling him how bad Dean wanted him right now.

Sam indicated that he was going to lay them down, Dean on top of him and never breaking contact with Sam's lips. Sam pushed Dean's pants and boxers down as far as he could managing to get them down around Dean's knees. Dean obliged him and pulled them all the way off, shucking his boots off with his feet, now naked except for his socks.

Dean broke the kiss and put his mouth next to Sam's ear. "Still wearing too much Sammy. Wanna see you, wanna get my lips around that big sexy dick baby boy." Just hearing the words in Dean's smoke-heavy voice was enough to convince Sam that Dean was indeed right. He pushed Dean back, just enough to get some space between them so that he could finish taking off his clothes.

Ten second Sam's jeans and boxers were against the well of the door, his naked body warming under Dean's gaze and the fact that they were hotboxing in the Impala, a lazy grin on his face. Dean leaned back down and kissed Sam lazily, the joint down to its last hit. Sam took his lips from Dean's and breathed in as deep as he could, dropping the expired narcotic to the ground and kissing Dean again, exhaling into Dean's mouth, the longest puff of smoke of all being shared between them.

Dean drank it down like a man dying of thirst, warmth and the taste of his Sammy all wrapped up into one. Dean ground his hips against Sam's, their cocks rubbing against each other, both dripping with arousal for the other. Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders, holding onto his sweat damp back and tangling his legs in Sam's, holding him close to his body. Dean explored every inch of Sam's mouth with his tongue, running it around the rim of Sam's lips, his teeth, everything he could get to to taste Sam, the flavor of weed and Sam coming together inside Dean's mouth, making him shudder with pleasure. It had been years since they'd done this, stopping when Sam had gone to Stanford. Dean hadn't smoked any then, simply because it reminded him too much of Sam and now to be doing it again like this – Dean didn't have a good comparison for it.

Sam felt Dean smiling and broke the kiss. "What?"

"Missed this Sammy. Missed us being like this, all high and happy."

Sam wrapped his arms tight around Dean's body and hugged him close. "You've got me Dean – always have. Now turn around and put that pretty ass of yours up here – gonna open you up with my tongue before I fuck you."

Hearing those words from Sam's mouth went straight to Dean's cock, feeling himself get even harder. "Fuck Sammy..."

Sam smiled and leaned his head back as Dean moved, positioning himself so that he could feel Sam's breath against his entrance, his breath hot and pretty much fucking perfect as Sam stuck his tongue out tentatively, just enough to give Dean a taste of what was coming to him.

Dean propped himself up his arms, sliding his hands to rest underneath Sam's knees, Sam's hips canted upwards towards his mouth. Sam was positively dripping with arousal, his cock an arrow pointing straight towards Dean's mouth. Dean opened his mouth and took the head of it past his lips, swirling his tongue around to scoop up the precome there.

Sam moaned loud enough to where Dean was sure he was going to come right then and there but he tasted nothing save for the weed still on his tongue and the salty-sweet of Sam's precome. Dean repeated the motion, moving his head back and forth to give Sam's cock a little extra sensation, his spit running down the hard length, dripping onto the leather seat of the Impala.

Sam was barely able to hold his concentration as he reached up around Dean's muscled thighs and held him apart, Dean's hole dark pink and waiting for him, a bud to be teased open. Dean hummed around his cock as he felt Sam's smoke-warm breath against his exposed skin, followed soon after by the warm, wet press of Sam's tongue, the tip of it tracing around his hole, making Dean's already blissed out body hum with anticipation. Sam closed his eyes and licked a little closer, the barest taste of Dean on his tongue. He felt Dean tense and then relax above him, moving backwards a little more to try and get at what Sam kept silently promising but not delivering on. Dean sucked a little harder on Sam's cock, hollowing his cheeks as much as he could around its thickness.

Sam took that as encouragement and slowly began to work Dean open with his mouth, every one of Dean's moans a note of a beautiful composition, the music of it burned into his brain forever, a lifeline connecting him even more with Dean. There was never a doubt in Sam's mind that this, what they had between them – it would never go away.

Dean was coming apart at the seams from Sam's tongue, the strong muscle dipping into him over and over again, feeling himself open up more and more for Sam, and only Sam. Connected with the high still thrumming in his body this was heaven, Sam giving him what he wanted, no needed. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. Dean opened his mouth a little more and sank down further onto Sam, taking Sam's cock all the way down, feeling it bump against the lining of his throat. He had to fight back tears of pleasure as Sam's tongue worked magic inside him, a blessing whispered in a temple, a sacrament given voice in the form of sex. Dean couldn't believe it some days, having Sam to call his, having Sam to love like this.

Sam could feel himself getting close, Dean's mouth tightening and tuning the pleasure coursing through his body, his high sitting near its peak, ready for Dean to take him upwards, towards that place of perfection that only Dean could help him reach.

Reading Sam's body language perfectly, Dean came up off of Sam's cock gasping for air, his lip swollen and wet with spit and precome. He felt opened up, Sam having relaxed him considerably. He looked over his shoulder at Sam, a smile curling his lips. "Think I'm ready for you now baby boy."

Sam looked back at him, returning Dean's grin. "Fuck yeah Dean." Dean moved to where he could press his forehead to Sam's and whispered "However you want me Sammy. Just want you."

Sam put his hand on the back of Dean's head and kissed him slow and sweet, the taste of himself heavy on Dean's tongue. He rubbed up and down Dean's spine, Dean mewling happily into his mouth. Sam knew that they were both high out of their minds but that didn't make it any less special – if anything, every touch was enhanced, more feeling.

Sam sat them up, Dean straddling him again, reaching down into the same pocket of his bag where he'd stashed the weed. He got out a tube of lube and opened it with one hand, the other arm around Dean's waist, holding him up. He poured some of it on his fingers and reached behind Dean, sliding two digits into Dean and getting him ready, relaxing and opening up even more.

Dean groaned as he realized what Sam was doing, slowly rocking down onto Sam's hand as he worked in a third finger, feeling himself being stretched open. It wasn't enough feeling, Sam's fingers simply not comparing to his cock, one of many parts of Sam he could never get enough of.

Dean broke the kiss and whispered against Sam's lips. "So fucking ready for you Sammy, c'mon. Want to feel you inside me, please." Sam removed his fingers, the sudden emptiness making Dean aware of how badly he wanted this, only to be replaced a moment later as he felt the thick head of Sam's cock against him, slowly pushing its way in as Sam held him steady, Dean sinking down onto him. Dean pushed himself past the burn of Sam filling him, focusing instead on how his body fit just right against Sam's, the whispers of "I've got you" in his ear, the way that Sam was not going to let him go for anything.

Once he had Dean as comfortable as he could get him, Sam began to pump his hips up, very, very slowly at first, kissing Dean with each rock of his lower body, his arms wrapped tight around Dean's body. Dean reached out and braced himself against the back of the seat, holding himself steady while Sam fucked up into him, his cock sliding in and out with the perfect balance of friction and burn, not completely yielding but still tight enough to where Dean felt it every time Sam went back in, Sam's thick length gliding over his prostate every time, dragging a low groan out of Dean with each thrust.

Sam took one hand and began to stroke Dean slowly, slower than the speed at which his hips were going. They had absolutely nowhere to be at the moment, so Sam was going to take his time with this, take his time with his Dean. Dean hummed against him, one hand moving from the back of the seat and into Sam's mess of a ponytail, holding his head steady as he kissed him a little more incessantly, their tongues coming together again, the air thick with the smell of weed and sex, combined with salt and leather to create an aphrodisiac more powerful than anything else in the world.

Sam stopped for a moment and released Dean's cock. Dean gave him a puzzled look, tilting his head.

"Why'd you stop?"

Sam smiled and said "Remember when I said I wanted to smoke while we fucked? Well we're doing one part of that now so..." Sam reached behind him and got the ammo box, pulling out the second joint he'd rolled. He offered it to Dean, lighting it as soon as it was held securely in Dean's lips. Dean took a long pull of it, the embers glowing and flaring at its end. Dean took it from his mouth and held it away from them, flicking the ashes off as he held his lips close to Sam's, trading another smoky kiss as Sam resumed fucking him again, his hand going back around Dean's cock and stroking faster this time, feeling his high becoming even stronger.

They traded smoke laced kisses more and more as Sam sped up, Dean hot and tight around him, holding onto Sam with one hand and the joint with the other. Dean could feel his climax approaching very, very quickly, Sam's hands a blur on his cock, calling for it with his fingers. He knew Sam was close to, given every little "ah" that came from his lips every time he went back in Dean, his cock getting thicker inside him, filling Dean more and more.

Dean took one more long hit and pressed his lips to Sam's, open mouthed and hot as he came, exhaling into Sam's mouth as he painted Sam's torso with come, feeling Sam pulse inside him and groaning into Sam, locked together in smoky bliss, clinging to each other as they rode their climaxes out at the same time, another union, another rope connecting them.

Dean's head fell forward, coming to rest on Sam's shoulder, wiping away tears of pleasure as he began to let himself relax, Sam's cock still buried deep inside him. Dean wasn't about to move if he could help it, no matter how much of a mess they had made. Sam kissed up the side of his neck, soft, affectionate brushes of lips that held only contentment, no rush or intent to go anywhere.

It was an hour before Dean finally moved, having relaxed into Sam's fingers dragging up and down his spine, Sam's embrace of him. He reached over and rolled down the window partway, letting out some of the smoke and air that was quickly becoming harder to breath in. A rush of cool air came into the Impala, the mid-morning sun bright behind Sam's head, making his long brown tresses glow like a halo.

"Swear to God Sam, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Dean smiled, his blood still thrumming with his high.

"You're so fucking high right now, aren't you?" Sam giggled and rested his forehead against Dean's.

"'M serious Sam. Never would joke about something like that."

Sam gave him a gentle kiss and whispered "I know Dean. That's what makes it so much better, because I know it's real."

"More real than anything else Sammy, swear it." Dean was feeling sleepy and happy, desiring nothing more than to remain draped over Sam forever.

"Need to move Dean – we're messy."

Dean was already slipping into blissful unconsciousness, content in Sam's arms.

Sam moved him off of him and gently cleaned them both up, reaching for the blanket they kept underneath the front seat for times like this, moving so that he was against the doorframe and Dean was cradled in his arms, pulling the blanket up to Dean's chin.

No, there was no rush at all.


End file.
